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Daily globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, January 26, 1879, Image 2

Image and text provided by Minnesota Historical Society; Saint Paul, MN

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83025287/1879-01-26/ed-1/seq-2/

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Bonny Kett Lips.
Bonny Red Lips, why do you pout
What is the matter, I pray?
Are impish troubles praying about?
If so, I will drive them away.
Just give me a kissone sweet little kiss
And I will drive them away.
Bonny Red Lips, O sweet Red Lips,
Will you not give me but one
The wee honey-bee, it sips and sips,
And never likes to ^et done,
'Tis so with me, my Bonny Red Lips,
So give me a hundred and one.
Bonny Red Lips, O sweet Red Lips,
Why do 3 oil smile so gay .J
The wee honey-bee on the white rose *ips,
And the ^vhite rose nes*er says nay.
And neither do you, my Bonny Red Lips,
As I kiss all jour tioubles awaj.
I was alone in the world, or I thought
I was, which amounted to pretty much
the same in its mental and moral effects.
My mother died when I was so young
that I had only a shadowy remembrance
of a pale face ana a long, last clasp to
her loving heart. I had been my father's
pet and Jarlinsr, and now he was dead,
too, and his will had consigned me, just
like a lie of goods, to the care and
guardianship of his brother, a doctor,
"whose home lay anion" the picturesque
mountains of Cumbeuand.
I was "too impulsive," said the will,
and would '"throw myself and my money
away befoie I knew the value of either,
if I had no one to take care of me," and
so, when my poor father died in the
south of Fiance, where we hnd gone to
winter, I'nc lo Ritson, who came barely
in time to lay him in his foieign grave,
earned me off at once to his house on the
bleak hillside, gave me a kiss a3 he lift
ed me out of the stuffy vehicle which had
conveyed us from the station, presented
me to my aunt and cousins with a,
"Well, here's Adela'." and told me to
consider myself "at home."
It T\ as the oeginning of Janunry, in
tensely cold. The sudden change from
a warmei climate had sensibly effected
me I was chilled under all my furs, and
perhaps more chilled by the "reshaming
influence of my father's" will, having pon
dered the "too impulsi/e" all through
the journey.
Certainly I was not "too impulsive1'
on my entrance to my new "home."
Aunt and cousins had met me on the
threshold wirh warm welcome, pressed to
remove my wraps and to make me com
fortable. There was a huge fire blazing
on the health, a teatable piled with north
countiy luxuries, and all that should
have made me feel at home but some
thing was wanting, and instead of re
spondiug to their greetings in my own
natural iashion, I dropped into a seat,
after the first glance around, and covei
ing my face with my hands, burst into
I have small, thin, quick eais. I over
heard^Aunt Ritson whisper to Bella and
Winnie, as she drew them back
"Hu-h! It's but natural, poor barne!
Leave your cousin alone, lasses she will
come to tierself all the sooner."
And I did come to myself: but whether
my tears had fallen irositilv on their hot
hearth, or we travellers had brought a
chill in with us, or my own manner did
not invite effusion, a certain air of re
straint seemed to grow upon us and
when I was shown the loom set apait for
me, and left to myself, I flung myself
upon my bed and sobbed in passionate
giief for my dead father, declaring that
I was alone in tae world, utterly alone.
And this -felling grew upon rne .Look
ing back, I am conscious that it w?s
much my own fault that I had not le
spondeci with sufficient warmth and grat
itude to tne relatives who had made room
in their household for one they hud not
seen since she was a baby, and had met
with open arms and hearts.
They had heard that I was gushing
and exuberant, a creature of impulse, and
finding me reserved and languid, con
cluded that I, accustomed to elegance
and luxury, could not brook the homeli
ness and retirement of my new life. I was
rich, and they were not Thev mistook
my moruid melancholy for pride, and
ceased to pi ess their society or attentions
on me, lest I should attribute to them
mercenary motives.
I see it all now, but then I was blind
I had another grief at my heart besides
sorrow for my dead parent, and 1 fear
whenever my thoughts flew to that lone
ly grave among the Pyrenees, I ques
tioned the policy which had isolated me
from the worldthe world in which my
hero lived and moveda^d prisoned my
free soul among those unresponsive walh
of stone.
In this rhapsody I did not apostrophize
alone their four walls of the solid stone
bouse that set against the mountain side,
with a back groud of pine, larch and
mountain ash, looked so cold and gray,
staring with its many lidless eyes from
its rocky peich above the straggling lake
village, on the steep, unguarded roadway
in front, and the narrow strips of garden
ground stretching like green arms on
either side.
No, I held converse with the moun
tains. They were to me the barriers be
tween love and life and happiness, but it
was only on their solitary heights I felt
free to give the feeling utterance. The
thrifty household ways of my aunt and
cousins, which kept them ever busy,
were strange to me. My dainty fingers
had no acquaintance with rolling-pin or
paste-board. It was not I who kept so
bright the mirror in which I saw my
own beauty, aye, and my own unhappi
ness reflected. I was supposed to be
mourning, and, with mistaken delicacy,
was left to donothing.
Had Uncle Eit3on known it, or how I
spent my time, he would have shaken
me up like a bottle of physic, and I
should have been the better for it. But
whether on foot, or horse-back, or in his
ancient gig, he was off in a morning, and
frequently was absent all the day. His
patients weie scatteied, and his rounds
I, having no occupation for hands or
energies, feeling myselt something apart
from the rest, was ofi and away up'the
br ezy hillsides to the lorn ly margin oi
the lake, or into the most secluded len=
my only compauion my faithfuldog
and there, when there was
only the wind to answer
me, I poured forth all the pent up feel
ings of my heart and olt my gusts of
passion found utterance in sons-. At
timos I took a pencil and sketch
3 book
with me in these wanderings but there
against the restraint of my father's "will,
crying from the depths of my inmost
heart for the banished love, who would
never find me in those solitudes, and
i longing for wings to traverse land and
sea until I found my home on his faitth
ful bosom?
Lost in abstractions, all danger was
forgotten, and I had paid the penalty
but for a guardian angel little dreamed
My first peril was from the mountain
mist, which came down and around me
with bewildering suddenness, blotting
out the landscape far and near.
Still, I thought I knew my way, and
was stepping onwaids, thougn with cau
tion, when my dres3 was clutched from
behind, as I fancied by some bush Turn
ing to disengage it. I was confronted
with what seemed -an awful apparition
looming through the misty veil, and with
a suppressed cry, I Stood sstill in affright,
I saw a woman's form bent with age,
a face intersected with lines and wrinkles
like a map, from which nose and chin
stood out like mountain peaks, and the
sunken eyes gleamed like the fiery
depths of two volcanic craters.
Stop. iay leddy!" she cried, "the gates
of death are open before ye! Tak' my
hand and let me lead you, and thankGod,
my bairn, that Elspa was near you in
your peril."
I had heard of Eispa as a woman who
dealt in herbs and simples, but 1 had
heard of her as one with an uncanny
reputation. She was spoken of as "the
wke woman," but the words were uttered
as if they meant "witch."
I confess I was half afraid to accept
her guidance, but she stamped her foot,
and by gesture strong as words gave me
to understand that I had been walking
towards a precipice, and three steps
tuithcr would have borne me to destruc
What landmark she had I know not,
but I think she seemed to feel her way
witn her feet. At ail events, after about
an hour's cautious stepping, we stood
below the mist, the blue lake gleaming
like a mnior still furthei down, and my
uncle's house within sight. Conscious of
the service she had rendered, I did not
confine my thanks 10 words, but was lib
eral with my coin.
As she took "the siller," she scanned
my face curiously, then seized my hand
and peered into it closely, while a sort
of creepy sensation excusable in a girl of
nineteen stole over me.
"Once, twice, thrice! Three perils,my
bonnie leddy. One is past. The itheis
lie befoie. Perils of your ain seeking.
The gates of death stand in the path of
your true love. Open them not with
rash or heedless hands before the year be
out, or love may mourn for love that
couldna bide. The air of mountain and
of lake is na gude for ye, bairn. Keep
mair at hame and dmna be misdoubtia'.
There's a gude God above a'! Ramern
Der! One danger is o\crpast. Tak' heed
ye seek not the ithers and dmna scoff
at old E'spa's warning words."
I had scarcely cecided whether to
laugh at her maundeiings or to yield to
the superstitious feeling she had awak
ened, when I opened the house-door to
find all within in a state of excitment.
It was long past our dinner hour and
my absence had alarmed them. Of
course, I explained the cause of my de
lay, and it was only by Aunt Ritson's
agitation that 1 fully comprehended the
danger I had escaped. I think her
motheily concern made me more commu
nicative than usual.
We were Ftill speaking of Elspa when
my uncle came in.
"Ah I" said he, a3 Winnie helped him
off with his overcoat, "Ah!" my dear, you
might thank your stars Eispa was on the
mountain side. I dare say she had fol
lowed you. The old Scotch-woman is
shrewed and far-soeing she has turned
her eighty y( ars' experience to account,
has a good practical knowledge of com
mon ailments and curative simples, i
should lo3e my own credit or I mi^ht do
worse than take her as assistant," and he
laughed. "Then she can read character
with any physiognomist in the world,
and the silly folk think her prophetic,
wnen she is only clear-eyed."
I think uncle was using an invisible
probe. I know I colored, and he laughed
again, but said nothingnor did I.
The excitement had not all been on
my account. Bella had received an in
vitation to spend some months with a
newly-mamcd friend in London, and
good-natured Winnie was in high glee.
Even aunt acknowledged it was "a
chanced not to be missed, if possible
and I saw her glance furtively in Uncle
Ritson's face, which I fancied was graver
than usual. Still, possibilities were not
discussed in my presence. It was not
until I had retired to my own pretty
room for the night, that I overheard the
sisters discussing the problem, unmind
ful of the thin partition between the head
of my bed and theirs.
I found that moneyor its scarcity
stood in the way, and heard the chances
of the matrimonial market calculated
with a balance greatly in favor of
Money! How I hated the word! I
would have given every shilling I posses
sed to be assured that Edgar Neville was
true to me, and would seek me out when
the period of probation prescribed by my
father was gone by. But where could he
seek for me? Correspondence had been
forbidden. He knew not my address,
and my father had withheld Edgar's
from me. Ah, how he repented before
he died! How glad he would have been
to have left me in those strong, protect
ive arms!
I soon bridged the monetary difficulty
over in spite of my uncle's opposition,
and I think I showed something of my
old self in the spirit with which I entered
into the needful preparations of Miss
Ritson's launch on the sea of London
society, little thinking what might be
its import to myself.
It was May when she went. I suggest
ed that she should lighten her mourning,
being about to visit a biidea hint she
seemed glad to take, for her pretty laven
der bonnet set of her face much better
than her heavy crape.
She kissed me very heartily before she
got into the gig beside her father, to be
driven to the station, to where her boxes
had already been dispatched, and I felt
more satisfied witn myself than I had
been since I crossed the Cumberland bor
Letters filled with the wonders she had
seen and the places she had visited broke
the monotony of our lives. Then came
one from Hastings, in which she told of
her introduction to a Mr. Neville.
I think my pulse stopped as Winnie
reaU ou the name. I know aunt asked
if the heat was too much
for me. But I drew myself together,
said "nothing" was the matter, and tried
to convince myself that the name was a
common one.
Again and again we heard of this same
Mr. Neville, and my heart began to be
torn with doubts and suspicions, and
was ever one figure in the foreground of me if I was ill
the most picturesque scene, and often
eneugh the figure was there alone, the ad
juncts all forgotten.
At first Bella or Winnie had borne me
company, but I think they saw my long
ing to be alone and I had my way, not
without many cautions from my aunt
UUtt we
What were perils to me, chafing very demon of jealousy seemed to take
^Pf ^*4w.rtS(^"*'*'
possession of my breast. I felt assured
that Bella was in love with him, and that
he was the Edgar Neville of my adora
tion all that she stated of his appearence
and family were convincing.
At length a letter came addressed in a
manly hand to Uncle Ritson, with Edgar's
well-known crest upon the seal. It was
a proposal for my cousin's hand.
My head swam round, but I summoned
courage to ask Mr. Neville's Cnristian
name. He had merely signed J. E. Ne
Ah, that was it, sure enoughJohn
I had my back towards my uncle,
standing ia the doorway, as I asked. No
one noticed how I staggered into the hall,
or how I snatched my hat from the stand
and darted up the mountain side to cool
my fevered orow and still my throbbing
pulses. How I went or where I went I
could never remember I have some re
collection of falling as I bounded across
a beck, of old Elspa's face bending over
me, and then no more, until I found my
self in my own snowy bed, with Winnie
watching me and an array of phvsic bot
tles on the window seat.
Elspa had found me where I had fallen,
half in and half out of the stream. Un
able to drag me thence she had sum
moned help with a peculiar whistle she
kept suspended to her girdle, the shrill
note of which no shepherd dared to diso
It brought a couple of shepherds to the
spot. My limbs were lifted out of the
stream- she had alieady bathed my
brow and plastered up my templeand
then I was cariied slowly down, "to inter
rupt the answer Uncle Ritson was send
ing to Bella and Mr. Neville.
My fall and the immersion were ac
credited with the prolonged fever which
almost baffled my good uncle's skill. If
any one suspected otherwise it was eld
Elspa, but she was too "wise" to reveit to
the subject when she came to see me ere
my convalescene.
Very slow was my recovery, retarded
no doubt by the scraps Winnie read to
me as pleasant news from her sister's let
ters. It was now '-Eddie this, or "Eddie"
that and as I shut my eyes and ground
my teeth, the better to endure, I felt in
dignant that my noble-fronted Edgar
should have a pet name like a baby. To
me he had the majesty of a monarch.
How could she address him so?"
I was down stairs before Christmas
came, able and willing to assist my aunt
in her multitudinous preparations, and
tried to smile and look gratified during
the Christmas merrymaking.
I had heard but hardly seemed to real
ize, that Bella was to be married early in
the new year, and that she and her hus
band would come and spend the honey
moon with us and I was doing my best
to nerve myself for the meeting.
The old year was closing ia. Elspa
who else9came
up to the house with a
letter she had found lying in a by-road,
it should have been delivered some days
previously and it was supposed that the
postman had taken more drink than was
good for him during the Christmas
camdings," and dropped it by the way.
Goodness! how that letter stunned me!
Bella was by that time married. She
and her husband were to be with us on
New Year's day, and they should bring
with them a New Year's gift for Cousin
Adela, as a thank offering for bringing
them togethei. Their photographs were
I saw only the one. Yes, it was Edgar's.
There was no mistake,
Tne house was at once in a bustle of
preparation. Again I slipped out, to hide
my agony and prepare myself foi the
coming trial.
Dreamily I went along. I saw nothing
before me but that meeting on the morrow
and the revalation it was sure to bring.
My mind seemed a chaos, in which
thought was lost.
All at once I found myself on the reedy
maigin of the lake, as the silver circle of
the moon was rising above the mountain
tops. And there I stood, looking on the
dark waters, whilst something seemed to
whisper to me that there was peace that
I need not meet the proud bride and mv
inconstant love unless I chose that I
might hide my sorrows and secrets there,
and none be the wiser.
My foot was on the brink. There was
a step on the stones behind me. I turned
and 1 think my half-formed purpose was
visible in my foce, as I once more con
fronted old Elspa, weird and witch-like
in the moonlight, a warning finger held
Sharp were her words, sharp as my need.
She bade me go down on my knees, and
thank God that He had sent her to save
me from my third peril -the peril of body
and soul. What was I pulling over?
What right had I to fl-ng away the life
that was given for the service of others?
How dared I tempt death, loving tne
creature more than the Creator? She had
heard my raving to the winds when I
thought myselt alone, and had kept a
watch upon me. And she bade me go
back home, and pray to be forgiven, and
to "trust the Lord to make His dark
ways plain."
She took me by the hand, and led me
back like a penitent child said to my
aunt that she tuought I was not well, and,
by her leave, would watch me through
the night. Something she gave me, too,
and I slept.
When I awoke a chaise was at the gate,
and before I could fasten my dress with
my trembling fingers Bella had burst in,
radiant with happiness, and flung her
arms around me.
"Come, Adela, make haste!" said she.
"Edward is all impatience td see you and
show you our New Year's gift."
"Edward!"I gasped.
"Yes, my dear Edward! Did you not
know his name?"
It was all a tangle. I followed her to
the living-room below, where the great
holly bush was hanging, and there stood
a stranger, who was introduced to me as
James Edward Neville, my new ccusin
and surely, too, Edgar, my own Edgar
for he held out his arms and caught me
as I was falling.
He had been best man at his cousin's
wedding, and Bella had only seen him a
few days previously. The postman must
have lost another letter, one Edgar had
sent to me. The photograph had been
inclosed by mistake. The other would
be in the lost letter.
Old Eispa kept my secret well. But I
never forgot the lesson she had taught
me and though Edgar cariied me away
from Cumbeiland as proud a wife as
Bella, we took good care of old Elspa for
the rest of her days.GasselVs Magazins.
It 13 now considered necessary that the
buttons should match the many materials
and styles of the suits. For this purpose
numberless different kinds of buttons are
continually made. The most popular
styles are the Pompeian, the Louis XV.,
the Egyptian and the Byzantine. Steel,
ivory, mother of pearl, ceramic buttons,
surrounded by pearls, and elegant buttons
in imitation of diamonds, ani Rhine
pebbles are all in use.
The Hero's Grave.
Where yonder mountain lifts its sunny head
'Mid nature's lovliest wilds, the traveler
The unpretending prave of one who led
His people on to victory and peace.
No sounds unholy mar his peaceful sleep
Near where yon foaming river rolls his
All nature breathes, or seems to breathe, a
And settled calm around his i wed
Ye need not marble bust nor storied urn
To keep his memory of his deeds in mind
In every loyal breast, where're ye turn,
A fitting tribute to his worth ye find.
In times that tried the very soul, he made
A recoid centuries cannot efface,
And more thiough love than fear or favor
The rude but honest fathers of his race.
The storms of winter howl less fiercely round
The humble doom that guards his sacred
With greener verdure summer decks the
Their raiest tintr, the autumn months un
When spring returns to cheer the fio/en
She breathes her holiest beDediction here,
And conscious ot tte spot, she checks her
And dews the soil with many a precious
He sleeps in peace, beloved of all who claim,
By bnth or blood, his country as their own
The:e is not on the page of Time a name
That hath a nobler sound, a richer tone.
A Terrible Encounter.
I had been living in Oakland but a
short time, and crossed the ferry every
day to business in San Fiancisco. One
evening I was watching from the terry
boat the lights of San Francisco receding
in the distance, and was absorbed in the
beauty of their dancing, flashing, many
colored rays. Long lanes of brilliant
lamps were coming into view, and then
giving place of others, all these shining
avenues of lights, from my shifting point
of view, seeming to revolve upon a com
mon centre, while the thousand lights
upon the the hills were reflected in the
calm water of the bay. Gradually a
feeling of a dread crept over mea cur
tain seemed to fall over the lights, ex
cluding from my view all save one, a
bright red lamp upon the water front
the danger signal to my awakening ap
I turned suddenly, and saw him for
the first timea tall, athletic man. his
face covered with a long black beard,
standing near and evidently watching
me. As I turned he stepped toward me,
and I noticed that we were alone upon
the afterdeck. I jumped away from the
rail, and hastily joined the crowd at the
bow of the boat. Theie I laughed at my
foolish fears, and looked vain for the
fellow who had alarmed me. I saw him
no more that night, and began to curse
my cowardice, for there was nothing at
all remarkable in the cireumstances that
we two were alone upon that part of the
deck, and there really was nothing
suspicious in the movement he made
toward me. However, I slept but little
that night and felt uneasy for several days
afterward. This apparently trivial inci
dent made so great an impression on my
mind that I bought a revolver, carefully
loaded it, and carried it always with me.
For some weeks I saw nothing of the
man, and although I had ceased to think
of him, I continued from habit to carry
the pistol.
One night I had been working late in
my office, and was hurrying down Cali
fornia Sheet to take the last boat for
Oakland. Wh'n near the corner of Bat
tery, I was seized as before with the same
feeling of terror, and instinctively my
hand was upon my revolver. At the corn
er I met the some black-bearded strang
er, and recognized him immediately. He
stopped full in front of me, and extend
ing his arm to bar the way, he said:
"My frend, do you know that your life
is in danger on these streets at this hour
of the night?"
I had with me a considerable sum of
money that had been handed me in the
evening, and which in my hurry I had
foigotten to deposit in the safe.
"Yes," I answered, as I drew and pre
sented my pistol, "I know that, and am
prepared to defend it."
The instant he saw the pistol he fled up
Battery Street and disappeared. Had I
raised an alarm I should be detained, and
would have missed the last boat, which
indeed, I oarely succeeded in catching.
I did not mention the occurrence to
any one, as my business often obliged me
to remain in the city until late in the
evening, and if my family knew of it they
would be constantly alarmed for my safe
Soroeffing told me I had not seen the
last of the man, and I carefully examined
my pistol every morning. I made cau
tious inquiries at the police-office, but
nothing was there known of such a per
son as I described. I became nervous
and excitable from constant apprehen
sion, and walked nowhere alone at night.
Some months had passed, when one
day, feeling that a ramble among the
hills would do me good, I took an early
boat to Saucelito, and strolled for sever
al hours through the canons among the
hills. Again that nameless terror came
upon me, and I was hurrying through
the woods along a narrow path leading
to the road, when a sudden turn brought
me face to face with the tall unknown.
For the first time I saw his face distinct
ly. It was an intelligent countenance,
but there was something relentless in its
expression, and the eyes looked wild and
cruel. For a moment I stood tranfixed
with fear and amazement. He bent his
piercing eyes on me, and laughed a hol
low, mocking laugh. My blood cur
"Aha!" he exclaimed, I had no idea of
taking a life over here. But I am alwavs
ready for business. Excuse me, sir," he
continued, with a fiendish smile, "do you
realize that you have not long to live?"
As he spoke, he thrust his hand into
his breast pocket. I saw that I had a
madman to deal with. When the truth
flashed upon me, I recovered my coolness
and self-position in a moment. My only
chance lor life lay in getting the first
"If you want my money," said I, at
the same time carrying my hand to my
pi3tol-pocket, "here it is."
He laughed again that cruel laugh.
"I don't ask for monev alllwan't
now is to secure your life."
I heard something snap in his pocket.
Quick as thought I whipped out my
pistol and fired. He fell back dead, bis
hand still clutching something in his
pocket. I withdrew his hand, and was
horrified to find that it grasped, not* a
pistol, but a packet of papers.
What had I done? Had I made a
mistake? The danger ot my situation
burst upon me. Were I discovered upon
the ground, I would be apprehended and
charged with murder! Upon the impulse
of the moment I thrust the pistol into his
hand and ran. I reached the road un
observed, and got to the boat in safetv.
The night which followed was one of
terrible anxiety and apprehension. I
knew that the body must have been found
before dark, as the path was much used
by workmen on their way home at night.
Morning and the newspaper came at last.
I tore open the paper, and this was the
first paragraph that caught my eve:
afternoon the body of M. P. M. Dodge
was found in the woods at Saucelito. He
had shot himself through the brain, and
the pistol with which he committed the
act was still firmly clutched in his hand.
Disappointment in business has been as
signed as the motive for the deed. The
deceased has been only six months on this
coast. A packet of circulars'!rbun in his
pocket led to his identification. They
bore his name as the special travelling
agent of the Purely Philanthropic Life
Insurance Association. The company
have lost in him their boldest and most
fearless operator. There was no insurance
on his life."
The reading of that paragraph lifted a
great load off my mind. I had slain a
life-insurance agent, and it was justifiable
homicide, after all. No jury would find
a different verdict. I was safe, but said
nothing.San Francisco Argonaut.
Where the Old Folks Lived and Died.
I never shall tell who the old folks were,
'Tis a wasting of time and breath
To ghe you the names of the humble pair
Who have passed through the courts of
But the cot on the lot on the top of the hill,
Near the spot wheie I just have cried
'Tis the lot where the old folks toiled and lived,
And the cot uheie the old folds died,
Is dearer far to my weaiy hea -fc
Than the dearest spot of earth
For that was the cot on the lot on the hill,
Where the old folks give me birth.
Tnere's a slab near the cot on the lot on the
That will tell to the traveler there
When the old folks passed through the gates
of death,
And the names of the humble pair.
When I tire of the toils and the cares of my life,
Oh! then at the spot where I cried,
Near the cot let me sleep, on the top of the
Cuddled doAv by the old folks' side.
Interesting Fashion Hints.
Feathers are all the rage.
Cninchilla is a favorite fur this season.
Feather fans are elegant for ball cos
Feather fringes are worn on all ball
There is a frenzy for red among the
Corsages, close fitting, are now worn
ovei the nips.
Moorish women wear engagement
rings in the nose.
Polka dotted neckties are the lage
with young ladies.
Lead-white is the fashionable color
if it can be so called.
Fashionable ladies never use oils or
pomades on their hair.
Twilled flannel costumes are much
worn for midwinter.
For full evening toilet the hair should
be elaborately arranged.
Artificial flowers are not so fashion
able as they were last season.
The trimming for evening dresses aie
of unusual richness and variety.
In France, just now, it is the fashion
for brides to be accompanied to the alter
by two tiny pages instead of brides
Two sofas are no longer used in the
parlor a corner lounge upholstered in
different material takes the place of one
of them.
For evening, silk stripes are preferred
to brocades. Inch-wide stripes of moire
alternating with satin are the most ele
The latest freak of fashion is a cellu
loid watch-case, and these are very
unique and pretty. They are finished at
the edges witn a narrow gold band, and
the handle and winder are also of gold.
Pink is again almost a royal favorite,
owing to its beauty as a combination
shade and its special effectiveness with
black, brown and dark-green.
Slippers and bands across the instep,
or ornamented with jewels, steel, or gold
or silver buckles, and sometimes with a
small bouquet of flowers, are to be worn
dt Hgeur with full evening or ball toil
Embroidery of all kinds is worn, and
the height of elegance is to have the
embroidery worked directly on the dress
itself but this is very costly, and when
the bands of embroidery are neatly ap
pliqued the effect is almost the same.
An American lady recently bought the
costliest braid or "switch" of hair that
was ever made in Paris. It was com
posed of hair a yard and a quarter in
length, snow white, and was exceedingly
soft and glossy. Its price was $500.
Flowers figure largely in the ornamen
tation of ball-dresses. A necklace of
drooping flowers, foliage or grasses are
worn with armlets of the same. Tnese
serve admirably to conceal a thin neck
and apparently shorten a long arm.
The favorite dress bonnet for young
ladies and young matrons is of maroon
velvet with gold and garnet bead edges
and trimmw^s of garnet ribbon and feath
ers, and a dash of pale blue or rose color
in an ostrich tip on one part of the same.
Chenille embroidery in brilliant shades
is very beautiful but the most beautiful
i3 the silk embroidery on tulle, represent
ing garlands of flowers in their natural
shades. Embroidered plaques are placed
down the dresses, and are very effective.
A very handsome and useful evening
cloak is of double-faced soft plush, in
circular shape. The edge is finished by
a simple hem, about one inch in width.
The fronts are faced with a silk-lined bor
nous hood, garnished with a large silk
tasseled cord, and a rich, oxidized silver
Among the materials used for the ele
gant costumes now designed by Fashion's
handmaids it is observed that the light
gauzes which a little while since were
considered so essential for evening dresses,
are now somewhat in the background.
Prevailing shapes require fabrics with
more body, andjthey are, if possible, more
rich and varied than ever.
Perfect cascodes of ribbon are used of
ten placed down the dresssometimes
two or three rows on the front, and some
times the ribbon is ruched or placed in
coquilles all round the bottom t the train
and up the sides. The very finest rib
bons are employed, with the two sides in
different shades or else delicately shaded
from the darkest to the lightest, or flow
ered on one side and plain on the other.
Fashion Notes With Description ot
Among the beaded embroideries most
employed are the "beige" beads, either in
one or several colors. They are of an old
gold tint, which harmonizes very well
with the colors now in use.
Notwithstanding that short dresses are
cmsideied in fashion, the "balayeuse" is
as much employed as ever. It is so made
now that it has all the advantages oi an
underskirt. The balayeuse is more gen
erally made of nainsook than of muslin.
It is trimmed with close plaits, insertions,
and a flounce of English embroidery in
a small partem.
Flowers are used by dress-makers,
milliners and lingeres. The bouquets
worn on the waist are generally quite
large, especially when the dress is low in
the neck. The flowers are varied, and
placed in a half circle on the laffc side in
front, terminating on the shoulder.
Handsome velvet and satin autumn leaves
are beauthul when thus arranged, and
can be worn with any tissue. The ordi
nary bouquet is also made very lar^e.
For evening coiffures bandeaus of
flowtis replace the wreaths, anl the
"cachepeignes" have flowers attached. A
model of this kind may be composed of
vangated roses, with rows of old-gold
colored beads imitating the top of a comb.
Several rows of beads, intei mixed with
sprays of flowers, depending from the
Bonnets are still made wholly of vel
vet and satin leaves, in several shades.
These bonnets are generally made in the
colors of the suit with which they are to
be worn. They aie considered most suit
able for evening wear, and are then trim
med with bunches of loses and velvet, or
with satin strings to macch. Bonnets are
also made wholly of feathers. They dif
fer in shape some are canotes, others
wreaths, nnci many consist merely of a
bandeau, which forms a broad brim. An
exemplar of this style made of cocks'
feathers in bandeau style is very pretty,
and should oe quite small. Some bon
nets have lonsr plums, taKen around the
crown and falling down the back. Tne
point from which the feathers start is a
green parrot with a red head. The pro
fusion oi feathers now in use gives to
bonne's a very rich appearance.
The Parisian novelties in children's
suits are made as follows: For a little
srirl about eleven yeais of age, a dress of
slate-colored cachemire is made with the
back cut in Princess and plaited all the
way down. The front and sides aie di
vided into two parts, comprising the waist
and skirt. The latter is joined to the
plaits in the back. The front of the waist
is plaited in the miadle. Around the
waist is a bronze-colored faille belt with
a steel buckle. Down the back are tv*o
similar bands of faille, with a buckle in
the center these draw the plai'stogether.
Tne turn-down collar and cuffs are of
bronze-colored faille. The hat to be worn
with this suit is of black felt, v.ith a large
brim, raised on one side. The long
plume around the crown is the same col
or as the ribbon of the dr^ss.
A suit tor a little bey from six to eight
years of age may be of "Capucine" cloth.
The short trouseis close on the knee by
means or throe buttons. Tne blouse ha
a plastrorn, formed by narrow bands oi
cloth down the sides"in fron% fastened
down by buttons placed veiy close to
gether. The belt "is of the same clot'i
ana buttons over on the side. Ine cuffs
have a bias band on the outside of the
arm ornamented with buttons. A red
neck-lie is worn witn the suit, and the
felt hat is surrounded by blown and
red striped ribbon.
For a baby from three to five years of
age a plaid ctchemire is very pretty.
The small skirt is plaited in the bac'
Down the front are green mother-of
pearl buttons. The veston is drawn in
to the waist by a broad belt of green
faille, with a mother-of-pearl buckle in
the center. Tne outer garment is cut
straight, and has a deep turned-down
col^r it hangs open down the front.
The small gray felt hat has a very nar
row band of red iibbon around the
A pretty combination of a little girl's
suit is putty-colored vigogne and brown
faille. The" dress is cat Princess shape,
and the back is open. The back forms,
from below the waist, a deep flounce
mounted in hollcw plaits, with the head
ing lined with faille. Djwn the front is
a large faille plastron. On either side ot
the plastron is a piping of the same
goods, and down the middle are large
round buttons in the same color. The
side pieces of the diess have a small
faille plaiting on the end. The deep
turned-down collar and cuffs are of
vigogne and faille. The iron-gray felt
hat falls flat in front and turns up in the
back. Aiound the crown is a trimming
of blue velvet, and down the back fall
white ostrich plumes.
Plaid suits are being made for ail pur
poses. They are especially suited to
traveling wear. Plaited suits are made
of this goods, with bias scarfs and white
vests with gilded buttons. Some of these
suits have one end only of the scarf fast
ened, in order that it can be taken over
the shoulder in Scotch fashion. This is
vary stylish, and useful, too, for traveling
purposes. Plain gray dresses are also
much in favor for traveling wear. The
skirt has three rows of stitching only.
The "jaquette habit" opens in a shawl
shape over a vest, which is buttoned all
the way down. The lingerie is plain
linen. Fashionable ladies wear in travel
very simple suits only, such as those
above described.
Scotch plaid velvet neck-ties, in the
colors of the paid suits, are worn with
them. These plaid velvets will be used
with plain-colored silks, as for instance,
on plum color, navj blue, or black fa:lle
tiimmed with lines of plaid bows. High
land plaitings are now in vogue. The
dresses are also much trimmed with full
trimmings pinked on either side. The
trimming is made of two and three bands
of silk and woolen goods in two colors,
then this trimming is made of a piece of
silk and a piece of woolen goods*is plait
ed on the outside. Sometimes two bands
of woolen goods are used, with the silk
in the centre. The borders are pinked
out or bordered with colored silk. Pas
sementerie is still in use. It makes
a very rich looking trimming for a dress
when without beads. Both kinds are,
however, in use, the passementerie worked
with fine jet beads and the plain kind.
The plain passementerie is often com
bined with satin balls, tassels, and fash
ionable trimmings. The marabout "co-
pean" or "shaving" is a style suitable for
all confections it is thick as heavy fur.
A walking suit may be of gray cache
mire and snuff-colored foulard. The
c ciemire skirt is trimmed up the back
with seven narrow plaited flounces in
faille and cachemire alternating. Down
the front are bands of cachemire and
faille also alternating in the two colors.
These bands are fastened in the centre
by mother of pearl buckles. The foulard
waist is plaited in front and in the back,
where it forms a kind of second skirt,
i \&-
=k- -r^iVttrttf^tmiMP^^-^'^^^^^^-^^f^"*^^^^^\^^y*^^
which is drawn into the figure by means
ot a cachemire belt with a mother of
pearl buckle. The front of the waist
opens square in the neck with a piece of
cachemire over the square. This is
hooked on the side. The cachemire
sleeves are trimmed with a plaited ruffle,
surmounted by a band of iaille ana a
mother of pearl buckle on the outside.
Ruched lingerie is worn with this suit
The bonnet worn is of ivory-white felt.
The flaring brim is bound with red faille.
The outside ot the bonnet is trimmed
with loops of ivory-colored and red rib
bon and a mother of pearl buckle.
A half-mournmg toilet may be of grav
cachemire de l'Inde and slate-colored
faille. The faille skirt is trimmed with
a deep plaiting. The cachemire polonais
is taken up in "lavandiere' style, and
bordered with bias faille bands. This
part is draped with the middle part in
the back, where the fullness forms puf
fings with the end falling down the back.
It is bordered with faille. The scarf
mantilla is of black silk net-work, with
rich fringe and tassels. The upper part
of the scarf turns over with the deep
fringe falling over the shoulder. Tne
front forms two end3 tied loosely. The
"fcebe" bonnet worn with this suit has a
slate-colored faille toft crown, with white
feathers starting from the top of the crown
and falling down one side of the back.
A riding habit may be of black cloth.
The front ot the skirt is cat in princess
shape and plaited to the belt in the b&ck.
The waist has a small barque and a plait
ed postilion in the ba"k The small
tarrel down collar has bias stripes of
go Down the front and around the
basque there is also a narrow twisted
piece of gold Large black buttons close
the garments down the front. The
sleeves are trimmed at the wrist with
bands matching the collar. On the out
side is a small pitce ol golden embroid
ery. The high silk hat is trimmed
aiound with a gre^n gauze veil.
Tight tissue&*are much employed for
[rida toilets. Moussebne de i'lnde is
very suitable for t^e purpose. The body
of the dress is of SIIK. and, as it is wholly
covered, the silk can be of very inferior
quality. The u-seline is draped, form
ing the panier and cascade puffings. The
dress is also trimmed with white lace
flounces. Tnere has been a change made
in the bridal bouquet and w:e\th The
most elegant wreaths are of white r^ses,
a few orange blossoms intermixed.
These rcses .are made to imitate the
small white roses and buds glowing on
the same Dranch.
A very snowy evening toi'et may be of
light olue faille, comblued with navy
blue faiiie and very light yellow. The
princess dress is made in court mantle
style with a long tiain. The dress opens
in front over a false skirt. Fallins uuite
low over this skirt aie three \est-ends in
the thre colors oi the toilet, each falling
a little over the othei. They clo^e by
means of mother of-v earl buttons. The
yellow faille undt-rskirt ha
Buffalo Express.
3 the lower
border tiimmed with one narrow plaited
Source in tie ligat shade, and then an
other in the air shade of o'ue These
are surmounted oy a deeo tiimm ng,
consi&nng of a white iace lufii-, j. ruch
ing of yellow faille, and a pate bloc pelt
ing and la:e heading. Too waist is "open
square in the neck, and trimn-eJ around
with a deep yellow fame inching. This
richmg is placed o^er tv,o pieces of
white iace, waieh extend beyond the
raching. Whore the dress open= in front
over the vest is a siiJI-saaped lace nim
micg T\itn loops the* three eoi rs,
made to imitate a pocket. The train is
svrioundtd by a eheli-shaped lace trirn
rmng, vith the same kind ot ribbon
loops intermixed. The duchess sleeves
are of whre lace, trimmel w'th lace and
plantings to match the skirt. On the
outside of the s!et\es aie ribbon loops.
The Depth of Depra-vltj.
A Western paper tells of a new and
dreadfully mean swindle. A straager
calls at a grocery and calls
ror two quarts
ot molasses. The grocer draws tli3 arti
cle and asks it the strangei has a jug to
put it m. "No,'7
says tae stranger, "but
you can put it my hat." Tne grocer
smiles a broad snii^e, questions to himself
whether the stranger i-., a fool or a great
American humor*, and disp :sses ot the
molasses as requested, laughing haif to
death as he completes the job, and think
ing what a rare good story he will be
able to tell the boys ,vho gather around
his sto-,e during the long cvetiogs to
discuss pontics and chew tobacco. Sud
denly ho starts, howevci. and with most
excellent reason. Tne disgusting strang
er has clapped the hat on the grocer's
head and firmly dra vn it down, the mo
lasses and all, over his ears. It takes
him five minutes to partiallv recuver
from his astonishment, the molasses and
the hat, and when he has sufficiently re
moved sweetness, and tears from his'eyes
to look around the deceiving person has
gone, taking with him the contents of
his money drawer and such other arti
cles as happen to be poi table. The
mind which could invent such an out
rage is lost the man who i.ould transact
it is as diabolical as anything in human
shape this side of Mr5. Borgia. While
we have not that lespect for a confiding
grocer which induces awe, we do look
upon him as a respectable ieiiow citizen,
entitled to all the immunities and to
think of the feelings of that person as
endeavors to tear off the hat and the
accompanying molassesof his sudden
repulsion from good nature to astonish
ment, and then to the extreme ot most
impotent angpr and indignationis to
contemplate a depth of anguish not here
tofore reached by any sympathv in the
world. We remembered the melancholy
spectacle, a good many years ago, of a
police justice of great enterprise and
dignity sallying out to do a little arrest
ing on his own hook. He arrested two
unpleasant men for being disorderly,
and started with them for his office, one
on either side. Suddenly one of those
young men jumped high and brought
his fist down on the high hat ot' the goo
old public functionary, and in a momen-'
the rim of that hat was resting peace
fully on his shoulders, the crown thereof
covering his countenance, and fitting as
firmly and closely as if it had been so
much uncompromising stovepipe. The
wicked young man ran away, taking a
mean advantage of the frantic efforts of
his honor to release himself: The look of
pain, of wounded dignity, of extreme as
tonishment, of mingled horror, and anger
and humiliation that rested on the face
of that police justice when he had finally
srot out of the hat can never be forgotten.
Of the many who saw it there is not one
who will not take it with him to his
lonely grave. But what was this outrage
in comparison with the molasses atrocity?
What had this honored gentleman to
complain of when one considers the con
fiding grocer and the wholly misplaced
sweetness that agitated his hair We can
not do justice to this subject. It is more
complex and hopeless to the humanitar
ian than the Bulgarian fiendishness.

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